Crazy countries, comical capitals and unlikely love
by FFabeonG
Summary: As if the Allied countries didn't cause enough chaos by themselves during meetings, they decided it would be a great idea to bring their personified capitals along with them! Told through the eyes of Beijing, this is the story of those 5 capitals meeting again and the plans they devise, the pasts they discover, the insults that are flung...and surprisingly, the love that blossoms
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: London, you git!

_(Quick note now: all double speech-marked speech is in Chinese) _

"Just stop ignoring my calls, you git! You'd better be driving and if you're late, you will spend a whole day with Edinburgh in festival week. Got it?!" The English voice and words ring outside my door, and I nudge my door open with my bare foot to see Mr. England slamming the phone down with those huge eyebrows contorted into a scowl. Hearing my door open, he turns at look at me for a moment or two even as the door next to mine opens and my own country steps out, just finishing buttoning up the collar of his army uniform.

""Ni hao, Zhong Guo."" I mumble as best as I can with my last two hair pins in between my teeth as my hands still twirl my hair into place on my head. I always keep my hair as tidy as I can, but it has always been long, and sometimes a pain to pin back. China clicks his tongue and motions for me to turn away from him.

""Ni hao, Beijing."" He chuckles, taking the pins from my mouth and finishing my task, pinning the last irritating strands up for me.

""Thank you, gēge!"" I grin cheekily, and my country still crinkles his nose at that term. I call him "older brother" sometimes to confuse him, as that's a title he knows well, but not coming from me! In one sense, it's difficult for me to know exactly how to refer to him, my only true family member! Other than his name, of course, and "my country", if I'm feeling particularly nice, or want something: D

Mr. England is still standing there, now with a slightly blank expression at our rapid Chinese speech, but then he blinks, and surprisingly enough, turns to me.

"I don't suppose you happen to have heard from London, have you?" he sighs. "The little bugger's running late again…and he won't pick up my calls."

"I haven't had any calls or messages, ari." I shrug slightly, stifling a yawn as I reply. I didn't sleep well last night…or the night before….or the night- I just don't sleep well at all, ok? "I apologize." I add politely.

"No need, love. Where did I go wrong raising him…?" Mr. England mutters.

""Probably at every corner of the journey."" China replies casually, but he speaks in Chinese this time, and I have to stifle my laughter. "Ayia, Beijing! Don't laugh at England, aru!" now he switches back to English and pretends to be shocked at me. I quickly adopt an ashamed expression.

"I am so sorry, ari!" I exclaim, trying desperately to keep a straight face. My sarcasm, however, flies right over Mr. England's head.

"That's quite alright." He replies smartly, then checks his watch and turns away to storm down the corridor, muttering again about "that bloody idiot…"

China tactfully waits until Mr. England is out of hearing distance before both of us burst out laughing.

""Awiaaa!"" I splutter ""Why didn't you say that in English?"

""It's funnier when he doesn't understand, Beijing!" China rolls his eyes before giving me a one-over look to check my appearance. ""That will be fine."" He mutters, more to himself than to me, moving to straighten out my collar that's practically choking me.

""Zhong Guooo! It's too tight!"" I whine, trying to loosen the collar again. My country grabs my wrists.

""I know, I know. I hate the uniform too, plus it doesn't suit you in the least. But we do have an important meeting to get to, so come on.""

I groan, thinking of all the people that will be there. London is ok if he's in a good mood, but from the sounds of it so far….unlikely. Other than him, Paris and Washington (just them, not their countries) are the only ones I've met up with within the last half-century, and as we walk down the corridor, the loud voice quickly alerts me as to who's already there.

""I don't think Washington's changed…"" I mutter even as we enter, and sure enough, Wendy nearly tackles me in a surprise hug.

"Hey Bei!" she laughs, nearly crushing me and laughing loudly at the rhyme. I would sigh if I could, but I can hardly breathe, so I settle for just hugging her back as best as I can.

"Wendy! You're squishing me, ari!" I can't help giggle a bit myself. As annoying as Washington can be, she will never fail to bring a smile to your face. She finally lets me go and I barely have time to even glance at China before I am practically dragged over to the window, where Paris holds her mirror high and re-adjusts one perfect curl. Wendy pouts at this.

"How do you do thaaaaat?!" she whines, jumping up onto the windowsill beside Philippa, who flashes her a perfectly white-toothed smile before embracing me and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek as she always does.  
>Paris always looks flawless, a trait obviously picked up from her country, and her clothes are always very modern, very stylish and often…well, very short! Wendy has a tendency to wear short skirts ,with those red converse shoes of course, as well, but with her figure and curly blonde hair- with a curl to match Mr. America's!- she pulls it off just as well. Me? Well I never dress as 'modern' as the other two do; I suppose that's just my age and history showing! I prefer my traditional clothes the best, far cries from the horrible uniform I have to wear now. China has always said I am beautiful, but he would wouldn't he?! That reminds me, last time we saw eachother, Philippa tried to give me a makeover…<p>

I got rid of all the photos, before you ask. Never again.

"Ni hao, Pippa!" I laugh, hugging her back and cheekily forcing Washington to budge up to make room for me.

"Where 'iz zhat flower I gave you?" Paris pretends to be grievously shocked as she taps my head. Triumphantly, I whip out a picture from my top pocket and proudly show her.

"Happy, ari?"

"Am I there?" Wendy leans over my shoulder eagerly, nearly pushing me off the windowsill in her haste to see the picture of us three, where I have said flower in my hair.

"You never let us forget you, mon amie!" Philippa sticks her tongue out and I suddenly recoil slightly, staring at her in shock. "Quoi…oh!"

"What? What is it?" Wendy asks confused as I wonder briefly if I imagined what I had seen. Paris just laughs.

"Bei, I haven't see you since I got this!" she sticks her tongue out again and my eyes widen further in some shock at the glittering metal stud through her tongue.

"Awia, Pippa!" I blink. "Are you crazy?!"

"I think it's cool!" Wendy beams. "I would so get one, but I just can't be bothered to look after it!"

"Oui, it was painful, but worth it!" Paris laughs again, as my expression hasn't changed. "Something wrong, Beijing?"

"…you young capitals are so crazy these days, ari!"

"Hey!" both of the others exclaim and it's my turn to laugh, one-upping them with my age advantage.

"Alright, loves?" the sudden voice makes us all jump before Wendy has launched herself at her 'cousin'.

"London!" she beams, tackling him in a hug that nearly knocks him over.

"Good to see you too…" London rolls his eyes, quickly hugging her back and flashes his slightly arrogant grin at us two. "Morning, la frog." He smirks at Philippa, who fixes him with a hard glare that would freeze steam.

"Oooh you touched a nerve there, Lee!" Wendy resumes her seat and tries to snatch my picture, presumably to check her appearance in it.

"How are you, Bei?" I look up after retrieving my photo.

"I am fine, xiexie" I reply shortly, and glance over his shoulder. "It looks like you're in trouble, ari…"

"London!"

"…heaven help me, love."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Big welcome to this new fanfiction, and of course to the plethora of new OC's that are the capitals :D just to clear up their human names...  
>Beijing- Bei<br>London- Lee  
>Paris- <em>_Philippa  
>Washington- Wendy<br>Moscow (meet him next chapter!)- ?...for now..._

**_Translations_**

_Ni hao: hello  
>Zhong Guo: China<br>Xiexie: Thank you_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Poor Washington…

The general feeling in the air is bordering on tense or hostile, thanks to Mr. England's ten-minute rant at his capital. Although it was more of an argument, to be honest… Lee isn't exactly afraid to speak his mind. Strangely enough, it was finally Paris who had stepped in and with a few words, had extracted apologies from both Brits (admittedly grudgingly), and we now are all seated around the conference table. Well, nearly all. Mr. America jumps to his feet, but before he can burst into yet _another_ "I'm-the-hero" plan, Mr. France suddenly interrupts him.

"Hang on." He looks around. "We are missing someone, non?"

"He is right, aru." China speaks up, also glancing wearily at the seats beside him and me, currently empty. "Russia and his capital are still missing."

"Oh yeah…" Mr. America's face falls and he flops back down in his chair, a pout on his face. "Where are they?"

"Who knows…?" Wendy sighs, her pout matching her country's when as if on cue, the door flies open with a crash and Mr. Russia, the country who terrifies us all half to death, strolls in casually and looks around.

"You started without me, da?" he questions, that sweet-scary smile gently in place.

"Um, no! We were just taking our seats to wait for you when you came in!" Mr. England insisted.

"Oh good." Mr. Russia beams, striding forward and seating himself towards the end of the table before glancing up towards the door. For just a split second, a strange purple aura flickers around him and I recoil in terror, comforted as China immediately holds my arm. Mr. Russia barks something in his own language, his voice not sounding so sweet anymore and his capital, Moscow, whom I haven't seen in over a century, also sits down next to his country. In looks he is quite like Mr. Russia, with pale blonde hair and a tall statue emphasised by his chocolate-coloured coat and dark grey scarf, but his face seems thinner, and his eyes are silver instead of purple.  
>There is a slight silence, where Mr. Russia smiles peacefully right at London, who tries to slightly back away, and Moscow just looks around. I notice his gaze linger on both Philippa, Mr. France, and London momentarily before moving to beside him. He blinks slightly at my country, as he's trying to remember something, and finally his gaze shifts to me. Those silver eyes meet my own and he studies me for a moment or two. Instinct tells me that this <em>is<em> Moscow, the capital of Mr. Russia of all people, and that staying as far away as possible is possibly the best idea in the world and yet… I gave him a tiny smile out of politeness, but he immediately slides his eyes away, focussing instead on Lee, who attempts conversation.

"So…" he seems unsure of what to say. "It's been ages, hasn't it? You alright?"

Moscow doesn't say a word, but gives a short nod, his face void of all emotion, and there is another silence until Mr. America clears his throat and jumps to his feet again.

"Ok everyone, me and Washington-"

"Washington and I." Mr. England and London correct him in unison. I chuckle slightly and China gives me a quizzical look.

"What is it, aru?" he sticks to English as we are around the others.

"Those two." I nod to the two Brits. "They are much more alike than they think, ari!"

"Are not!" Lee protests this faster than Mr. England, but the rest of us just laugh, a cheerful sound that brushes away the previous fear and tension.

"Dudes, you so are!" Wendy giggles, high-fiving her country without even needing to look in a display of synchronisation.

"Oh do shut up…" Mr. England groans.

"But I'm speaking!" Mr. America pulls out a map entitled "World Map", only…

"You 'ave missed out every country except your own again…" Mr. France sighs, but Mr. America just looks blank.

"What do you mean? This is the world map!"

"No it's not, aru." China snaps "You are not the only country in the world, aru!"

"Here." With no other word but a cheerful smile, Mr. Russia holds out a world map that he got from who knows where, and Mr. America takes it, hesitantly, but it would be unwise to refuse.

"Oh, thanks!" he tries a grin and reluctantly sticks that map over his own before launching into his plan, if that's what we can call it… "Ok guys, it's all simple enough. I need you, you, you and you!" he points to each of the countries at this. "To back me up! Why? Cause I- and Washington, of course- Washington and I are the heroes!" Wendy whoops at the last bit, but the rest of us just look at Mr. America.

"Ze grammar is better, but it eez rude to point!" Pippa rolls her eyes, then mutters something in rapid French to her country, who tuts sympathetically.

"I know, ma cherie, I know." He sighs before facing Mr. America again just as Mr. Russia speaks up properly for the first time.

"A question." He states curiously. "Is that not the same plan we used last time? And the time before?"

"And how well did it work, aru?" My country raises his eyebrows at Mr. America.

""The wok was a nice touch however, Zhong Guo."" I can't resist telling him, back in our native tongue. China chuckles slightly.

""Well what can I say? I'm an artist, Beijing!""

"Gentlemen…" Mr. England gets to his feet "And ladies, of course." He makes a sweeping gesture to me, Wendy, and Paris. "We aren't going to get anywhere by discussing this overused plan. We need something new. We know the island where the Axis are, don't we?"

Cue slight silence.

"Vell we know where it is." Mr. Russia tilts his head in thought, "But the name-"

"Seychelles." Lee interrupts from behind his teacup. Mr. England looks ready to explode.

"Did I raise you with no manners?! You don't cover your mouth when you speak, Lee!"

"Sorry, sorry…" London sighs, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth. He did it on purpose, just to annoy Mr. England in his typically mischievous-bordering-on-rude-way. We're all far too used to it…

"Seychelles, oui. Zat is ze island." Mr. France brings the meeting back, and Philippa chips in,

"And zey don't know we can see them?"

"Nope." Mr. America beams, all smiles again.

"Well then, we shall organise a confrontation, da?" Mr. Russia smiles sweetly. "A true blood-spilling fight?"

"Um, surely with the advantage of them not knowing, we can ambush them a lot better." Mr. England suggests.

"That sounds better to me." London shrugs, and I nod as well.

"I second that, ari." I say.

"What about you, Moscow?" Wendy asks, leaning across the table slightly. "What do you think?"

A dead silence falls as Moscow's silver eyes flicker to Washington and he stares at her, his expression unreadable. Then he first looks at Mr. Russia as if to check he is looking before tapping his thumb twice on the table in front of his country, frowning ever so slightly. He outstretches his hand to the middle of the table and taps his index finger this time, pointing towards Mr. England, with a tiny nod of his head.

"He agrees with England." Mr. Russia translates, patting his capital's head as if he is an animal for some reason. Moscow raises his eyebrows slightly, as if asking 'really?', but still doesn't say a word.

"Dude, is your capital mute or something?" Mr. America exclaims, staring at the two. But he has said something wrong. A dark aura begins to build around Mr. Russia, and everyone recoils or begins to back away, terrified. Well nearly everyone. Mr. America seems frozen with fright, and Moscow just lowers his suddenly dull and emotionless gaze to the table, clenching his jaw slightly.

"What are you saying, United States of America?" Mr. Russia's child-like voice has taken on a much darker tone, and it makes me shake. Mr. France already has his arms around Pippa, London and Mr. England have already exchanged that "we're in trouble" look, and poor Wendy is cowering away as best as she can. Mr. Russia goes on, "Are you possibly implying that there is something wrong with my dear city?"

Sheer horror seems to spread with that dark aura, and only Mr. Russia's capital now seems unaffected.

Suddenly, Moscow lifts his head up and once again taps the table in front of Mr. Russia before signing to him, clearly miming something to do with speech, though I can't quite see his face so I can't be sure exactly what. With that, the aura is suddenly gone and the whole room seems to breathe out.

"Oh what a good idea!" Mr. Russia smiles at Moscow, who doesn't smile back. I wonder if he can. Then Mr. Russia turns back to the rest of us, sitting back down, and goes on, "Dear Moscow just made a wonderful suggestion." He beams. "He says I should just explain it to you, da?"

Moscow nods.

"To put it simply, my capital has not spoken a word in many many years! Not since our…ah, short problem, shall I say." Mr. Russia looks at Mr. France and Mr. England, as if expecting them to say something.

"Oh!" Mr. England exclaims suddenly. "I-I believe I understand."

"That makes one of us, aru." China frowns. I am equally confused, quickly doing my maths.

"Ze, um, revolution you had?" Mr. France looks cautious as he responds, but Mr. Russia just nods cheerily, and everyone relaxes.

"Ahem, now that's cleared up, this ambush idea…." Wendy prompts her country, who regains his confidence quicker than London can make tea (and that's saying something!) and springs back into plans. But I am still distracted, and quickly look around the other capitals. Surely…surely I wasn't the only one to notice the way Moscow tensed at the mention of the Russian Revolution, the way he clenched his fists so much his knuckles turned white? Just me? Oh… ok then.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Enjoying this? Think it needs something? Laughed yet? Let me know! :D_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Paris shouldn't have left as well…

_A/N: French swearing ahead!_

The sun is beating down on the Allies' training complex, and us capitals are relaxing together by the tracks, leaning against the east-facing wall that provides some shade and chatting, catching up after decades, in some cases centuries, of not seeing each other. London is attempting to read his book while leaning against the huge oak tree, Moscow is shading his eyes with his hands as he squints at the training Allies, and us three girls are completing the circle and annoying Lee.

"So you 'ave lost how many?!" Paris laughs.

"Oh shut up!" Lee groans, holding his head in his hands. "It's not my fault all the little countries want independence and Iggy's too lazy to say no!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah- didn't you say that with me as well?!" Wendy giggles, and London threatens to throw his book at her.

"Why are you so bloody annoying?!

"Awww, you love me really, Leelee!"

"Let me consider that…"

"Keep calling him that and he won't love you for much longer, ari!" I laugh.

"Love never perishes that easily, mon amie!" Enter Philippa on her specialist subject.

"How sweet." London fakes a yawn and leans back against the tree, and we laugh.

"Je deteste votre sarcasme, tu peitit merde!" Paris scowls, reverting to her mother tongue in the hopes we won't understand. I haven't been around over three thousand years for nothing, though.

"Awiaa, Pippa! Language!" I scold mockingly and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh I do apologise…"

"Paris! You're speaking sarcasm like London?!" Washington gasps with a grin on her face. "Has he drugged you?"

"Please, I think we know who, if anyone, is on drugs here!" London laughs, nodding to me, but the smile melts right off my face at that. At least Mr. England has the decency to avoid the subject of drugs, especially opium, around me or China, but Lee forgets far too often… well, I say forget but sometimes it doesn't feel like he has _that _bad memory.  
>I hear Wendy splutter a "London!" and Paris chuckle slightly, but I don't say anything. Just then, Moscow scribbles something on a scrap of paper and taps London on the shoulder, handing him the note when he turns around. There is a slight pause, then Lee glances momentarily at Moscow, who tilts his head slightly, as if asking "well?"<p>

"Um, Bei?" I look back over at the Englishman as he speaks, albeit awkwardly. "I'm….sorry, love. I guess I shouldn't have said that…"

"You shouldn't have, ari." I shrug, but then I allow a smile again. "But I'll forgive you…as long as you don't do it again."

"Great." Lee beams "I won't!" He will.

But I'm a forgiving person, and it's all smiles again, at least until the clouds start rolling in.

"Seriously?! Rain now, while I haven't got my umbrella?" Wendy glares at the sky and London nods an agreement.

"I left mine in my room…" he sighs.

"Then we can both get them!"

"Zat sounds good, I need mine. Shall I get yours too, Bei?" Paris offers.

"Oh yes please." I reply.

Lee struggles to his feet and catches up with the two girls who have darted ahead, leaving me alone on the grass as Moscow too gets to his feet. I fully expect him to vanish inside as well, but the next thing I know, his shadow is falling over me and I look up to see him offering his hand to help me up. With a shy smile, I take his hand and he pulls me- gently- to my feet.

"Xiexie." I say, then suddenly a question occurs to me. "Did….did you tell Lee to apologise to me, ari?"

Moscow nods, and pulls the paper he gave to London from his pocket and shows me. I read 'Think about what you said and apologise. You have upset Beijing, now make it right.'  
>Looking up at Moscow again, I just find myself smiling a little wider.<p>

"Thank you, ari."

Moscow's eyes twitch, and he seems to be about to smile, even slightly, when suddenly a shadow of a different kind falls on me.

"Ah, privet, little sunflower and dear Moscow!" I jump slightly as Mr. Russia suddenly looms over me. Cautiously, I look to either side, but I am already against the wall, and there is nowhere I could run if things get scary. "Such a shame about these clouds, da?" Mr. Russia goes on, sweetly smiling.

"I suppose so, ari." I reply shakily, looking up at him and trying a smile.

"Would a storm hurt you, sunflower? If it does, there is a solution…" the nation beams down at me, but already there seems to be a slight shadow growing around him. Oh dear. It must be a bad day… "You, and your country, become one with mother Russia, da?"

"No, ari!" I say firmly. This isn't the first time I've heard this…or the second….or the third- I think you get the idea. Mr. Russia tilts his head slightly.

"But you would be so pretty among my collection!" he reaches out as if to touch my face, and I take a step back, conscious of the personal space invasion. Mr Russia's eyes flash momentarily, and suddenly his hand is gripping my shoulder, pushing me against the wall so forcefully I am lifted off my feet slightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see Moscow start forward, as if to grab his country's wrist or something, but then he falters and I think I imagined it. Anyway, I'm a little preoccupied with my current situation. Mr. Russia is still smiling, and he doesn't even look cross at all. It's hard to hate him, strong dislike maybe and wary fear, but he always seems so like an innocent and slightly clueless child. He doesn't even know his own harshness sometimes, and I truly don't think he means it!

"Mr. R-Russia…" I stutter slightly, but don't cry out or beg for mercy. Nothing sparks his temper or…instability more. "P-Please let me go…"

"Why, sunflower?" he asks curiously, clearly not realising he had hurt me with that push into the wall. Then he chuckles and glances at Moscow, who quickly adopts a blank expression, though I didn't see what it was before. "Don't you agree, Moscow?" Mr. Russia asks. "She is a pretty sunflower, da?"

Moscow scrunches up his face, then shakes his head slowly. Stepping forward, he turns his grey scarf up to display a tiny sewed-on sunflower and taps it with another shake of the head. Then he pauses, looking around and clearly searching for something to explain what he thinks, only there is nothing around that could be of use. He glances back at the main house, not too far away, and holds up one finger with a tilt of the head, as if asking permission.

"Oh, you think another flower? We will wait, be quick and find it!" Mr. Russia says, and Moscow too vanishes, and I am completely alone with the threatening nation. "Moscow thinks you are not like a sunflower, Beijing." He beams.

"I-I might h-have guessed." I reply slowly. Mr. Russia opens his mouth to say something else, but suddenly he is interrupted. And I couldn't be gladder.

"Ayiaaaa! Russia, let go of Beijing!" China exclaims, running up to us.

"We were just talking, da?" Mr. Russia drops me without warning, and I scramble back to my feet as he goes on. "She refuses to become one with me! Clearly she takes after you."

"I hope so, aru!" China shakes his head. "We will never 'become one' with you!"

"Well, not yet, da?" Mr. Russia seems disappointed, but then Moscow returns and he turns to walk with his capital.

""Beijing, are you alright?!"" my country hugs me quickly, and looks me over, obviously checking for injuries.

""My shoulder hurts a bit, but I'm fine." I rub said shoulder, looking over to where the two Russians have gone back inside. ""How did you know to come out to me? I thought you were talking to Mr. England?""

""I was, Bei."" Keeping an arm around me protectively, China and I begin to walk back to the main house as the rain starts to fall from the huge clouds above. ""I was talking to England, but then Moscow just appeared in the doorway." My country pauses as we get inside to check that no-one would be eves dropping. ""He just looked right at me and pointed outside, so I thought I would check. And look what I saw!""

""Xiexie, Zhong Guo! Mr. Russia…scares me sometimes...but then he just looks so innocent!"" I admit, and China tuts sympathetically. I head to my room and collapse on my bed, breathing out slowly and _finally_ loosening my uniform overshirt, when my door opens and Zhong Guo enters again, shutting my door behind him and holding a cup of green tea.

""Show me your shoulder."" he says as I sit up. I shrug off my overshirt, leaving me in my red vest top, and my country sits down, placing the tea on my bedside table and inspecting my shoulder, gently moving it and prodding certain points. I wince once or twice, and China definitely notices, but says nothing other than his "Ayiaa…"

""Did Mr. England agree with your idea?"" I ask, remembering what China had been talking to the Englishman about.

""Oh, nearly. He's nearly convinced."" I can practically hear the smile in my country's voice as he adds something to my tea and hands it to me. ""Here, Beijing. It'll numb the pain, and should help you sleep as well."

I'll believe that when I see it, the sleep bit I mean, but I gladly take the drink, knowing it will help with at least the pain.

""Thank you, Zhong Guo." I lean on his shoulder lightly, and he chuckles, moving his hand to pat my hair bun as he can't ruffle my hair like he normally would.

""Don't worry. You were brave there, Bei. I am proud of you, you know that?""

""Yes. I know.""

* * *

><p><em>AN: Translations_

_"Je deteste votre sarcasme, tu petit merde" (French) - I hate your sarcasm, you little s****_

_"Xiexie" (Chinese) - Thank you_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Beijing.

_Darkness. That's all I can see. But it's not quiet. Screams pierce my ears. I can hear a distinctive voice and the clash of metal. The clash of swords. Running blindly though the darkness, the scene melts into place, as it has done a thousand times before. China barely dodges the next strike. He isn't used to this opponent. His own brother. And what am I doing? Nothing. I run, hearing Zhong Guo trying to reason, trying to talk with Japan. But this is war. This is terror. And I, the capital of China, have to fulfil my duty. My own sword appears in my hand. I have to protect Zhong Guo. He will not kill his brother. He doesn't want to fight him. I can't let him get hurt…or worse. So I run towards them. Vaguely, like the memory it is, I hear China scream at me, telling me to get away. But I don't. I see the flash of Japan's katana and the equally red flash of his once-peaceful eyes. I raise my sword in defence, blocking his first strike, but it's no use. As if in slow motion, the katana moves and I feel it begin to slice the skin on my neck—_

The half-shriek has barely left my lips before I clamp my hand over my mouth as I jolt upright in bed, images and terror flooding my mind from my nightmare. I shake violently, still clamping a hand over my mouth to drown any sound and try to listen to the silence. And that's what it is. Silence. For a second, I feel a mix of sadness and fear, sadness at being alone in my terror, and fear at the confusion. Nightmares aren't uncommon for me – in all honesty, they are a nightly occurrence, and nearly every single time I wake up like this, nearly screaming, my country is right there, hugging me and reassuring me, telling everything will be ok like he has done for thousands of years. But he doesn't come, probably still asleep in the next room with the thick enough wall between us. Then in the next second, I feel…relief. Of all the nightmares I have, this is one of the worst, and thank all the deities China didn't hear me this night. That memory is as painful for him as for me, maybe even more so. I won't put him through the pain of remembering it as well.  
>So I try to convince myself to calm down, telling myself that I can do it without help. But the shaking won't stop and I still need to cover my mouth to stop the scream still pounding in my mind. Desperately, I shut my eyes and rock slightly, back and forth just in the way my country used to rock me to sleep when I was little, but the memories just come soaring back, overwhelming me and trapping me. I need out. I need to breathe but I can't!<p>

Then an idea comes into my head. Instinct kicks in at once, yelling at me, "No! You promised Zhong Guo you would never do that again!" But the idea remains. And it offers exactly what I need, which is for my thoughts, for everything, to stop, at least for a while.

"No. "I whisper into the silence, or mouth it, as if I try to talk I think will really scream. "You can't"

But I do. As if in a terror-induced-trance, I mentally map out my way to the pond I saw a few days ago, the day we were sitting under that tree, and shakily throwing back the bedcovers, I forget my shoes and slip out of my room, hand still over my mouth and treading carefully past my country's room. I don't want to wake him.

The cold night air hits me hard, but those coaxing thoughts remind me that if I go through with this, that won't bother me. The moon is full, and the sky is clear, the stars are boring down on me, their light stabbing my eyes like tiny needles. For just a split second, a movement in the trees catches my eyes; it's as if someone is there, but that is improbable at this time of night. I barely feel first the gravel, then the grass underfoot as I leave the main training ground and slip into the trees and woodland surrounding the track. There it is.

The pond is still and clear right now, gently reflecting the moon and stars above it, and there isn't even a leaf breaking the surface of the water. Slowly, and on shaky legs, I reach the water's edge and crouch down, pushing my long hair over one shoulder and resting my fingertips on the surface of the water, trying to distort my own image so I won't have to see my own haunted eyes as I do this. The water is icy cold, not like last time when…that's another story.  
>It's a good thing this can't go wrong, that I can't actually die by doing this. All it offers is a brief respite, a halt in my out-of-control, terrifying thoughts, and I will do it.<p>

Time to break a promise.  
>I steadily lower my head now, touching my forehead to the freezing water, and before another stupid conscience thought comes in, I take a breath and tip forward into the pond.<p>

It's deeper than it looked, and I sink delightfully to the near-bottom before finally opening my eyes and mouth, taking just a second to admire the distorted view of the world above this water.

And I scream.

Bubble stream madly from my lips as I let out the bottled-up pain and I scream, clutching my hair and shaking my head desperately as the water numbs me to the bone and I try to block out the pain, the guilt, and the overwhelming _memories_. Why, why, why did I stand by to begin with in that fight? Maybe if I had obeyed China after all and stayed out, maybe he wouldn't have gotten hurt! Why did Japan do that to him and to us-  
>Oh the blackness is creeping in now. My lungs are burning for air, but I won't let myself float to the surface. I won't let myself breathe. Why? Because I want to pass out. When I faint, then I will just float up, and I'll wake up after a minute or two. Maybe I'll repeat the process then, maybe I won't.<p>

"Just…a little…longer." I think as the fire in my chest becomes almost unbearable, and sure enough, the darkness on the edge of my vision is creeping closer. It feels like something within me snaps, my will probably, I feel my eyes close.

And my body rushes to the surface.

* * *

><p><em>AN: *gasps of horror* quick thanks to the reviews so far- i'd love to hear more about what you guys think :) _

_Quickly clarifying things, Beijing was _not _trying to drown herself, simply to pass out and yes, she has done it in the past... (would anyone be interested in that any further?)_

_Stay tuned!_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Why, Moscow?

I…I'm breathing. I'm breathing normally, and it's so very cold, especially as my night robes and hair are dripping wet. But if I can tell my clothes and hair are wet, then that means…I'm out of the water. But how? More of my senses begin to return, and slowly I register that someone is holding me, their strong arms supporting my smaller frame. Oh gǒu pì, what if it's China?! But no, it can't be him; I know for a fact he would be panicking like last time, not staying silent like whoever this is.

Hang on…silent?

I slowly force my eyes open, and sure enough, I see a pair of silvery-grey eyes staring down at me, with an unreadable expression written in them.

"M-Moscow?" I whisper, my voice hoarse from screaming. The Russian's arms around me tighten slightly, as if he's scared I'm going to fall, and he slowly sits down, hesitating before lowering me to the grass in front of him, watching my expression. "W-what are you doing here?" I ask weakly, and Moscow frees one hand to reply, pointing at me. Then I look down at his exposed coat sleeve, and notice that it is wet, just like my clothes. "You…pulled me out, ari?" I blink up at him. He gives me a look that definitely reads "of course!" as he nods.

My voice catches in my throat, and I slowly turn my head and gaze back at the still waters, cool and inviting. I feel the arm still resting on my back as I sit up tense slightly, and I glance back to see him shaking his head firmly.

"Don't even think about it." He is saying.

"Why?" I whisper. "Why did you do it?" my voice begins to rise ever so slightly "It's…it's the only escape I can feel sometimes, things get too much and I need to black out; why, Moscow, why?!"

"Maksim."

I look up, shocked at what just happened. It…did happen, right? I wasn't just imagining it?

"Pardon, a-ari?" I ask, tentatively. He hesitates, then opens his mouth again.

"Maksim." He repeats. His voice is fairly low, but reminds me somewhat of the softness of fresh snow. "It's my human name."

"Maksim." I repeat, and he nods. Slowly I take it in, trying to understand something, then give up as already, the stress and fear is crawling back, along with the images from the past seeping into my mind. I hug my knees to my chest and rock slightly again, almost forgetting Moscow is there as I long again for the sweet release of fainting the water can bring.

"Hет, kuvshinka." His voice startles me, as does the sudden touch to the side of my face. He is very tentative, as if I will bolt or push him away.

""Shén-what?" I blink up at him, nearly forgetting to speak English. Maksim looks over me at the water pointedly.

"You must not go under the water again," he said.

"Why?" that word has escaped me again and I can't help it, I bury my face in my hands as I fight back the tears. "Why shouldn't I?! You- you don't know what this is like; every night I have to cope with these memories, ari! Nearly four thousand years, and still every single war and every single drop of blood haunts me and I can't get it out of my mind! It makes me weak, a-and-"

I give up, my mind whirling with all the pain and confusion and I finally feel the tears escaping, pouring down my cheeks. Then I feel cold hands reach around me, and Moscow pulls me onto his lap gingerly, as if I am made of glass and could shatter at any moment.

"Shush." He says firmly. Slowly, he reaches up and tugs my hands from my face. I blink up at him, embarrassed at the horrible tear tracks down my face and the way am I still shaking, but there's something in those silver eyes I haven't seen before. Concern. Worry. True emotions; and now Moscow is not just the capital of Russia, the person I haven't seen in over a century but am now working with. He's Maksim, and I can see that underneath his silence, his straight face and large frame, he is just like me. A capital, more human than we'd like to admit, and vulnerable to many emotions.

"Why would you think that, Beijing?" he questions, sounding genuinely confused. "You are not weak. You are strong. You have been surviving for four thousand years, even with your troubles. There have been wars, and terrors, yet you still are here. You are strong, kuvshinka."

Breathing in, I repeat what he said mentally and then turn to slowly wrap my arms around his middle and hug him tightly, burying my face in his dark grey scarf as I do.

"Xiexie." I whisper. "Thank you."

Although he had tensed up at first, Maksim relaxes slightly and returns my hug awkwardly, and even when I pull back, he keeps one arm around me. After a bit of comfortable silence, I ask,

"Why…why are you talking to me? And why now?"

There is more silence, and Moscow seems to be thinking carefully before answering.

"You gave me a good reason." He says eventually.

"Did I?"

"Da. I…suppose I wanted to tell you my name, and I did. I have been wanting to talk to you for a while, but my voice didn't let me." His silver eyes seem to grow darker, and I can tell he is thinking about the past, and that it's no prettier than mine. I watch him as he is lost in thought, in a way that, if he was his country, the aura would have grown by now. But there's no aura with Moscow. However, the darkness is still reflected in his eyes and the slight crease of his forehead, and I slowly reach up to move a stray strand of his cream-coloured hair from his eyes.  
>Maksim starts, my action having obviously brought him back down to earth, and catches my hand as I retract it. He presses his own hand up against mine, and we both see the difference in shape; his broad pale hand against my own slim, feminine and sun-loved skin.<p>

"Why are you frowning, Maksim?"

Moving his arm that's still around me, he shifts me a little bit closer before replying. "You are warm, kuvshinka. Yet you are still wet from the water, but you are warm."

"I'm not, ari." I shiver. "It is cold tonight…"

"I wouldn't know." Maksim looks up at the clear skies, with the stars blinking down on us. He looks slightly saddened by this, as if there is a present he has been denied.

"Is it always cold where you live?" I ask, shivering as the breeze hits me. Maksim looks back down at me and shrugs half-heartedly.

"Da." He nods. "I have always known the cold, kuvshinka. Ever since I was very young, back when…" he trails off, and that guarded expression has returned.

"You don't have to talk about the past, ari." I assure him. "I will not force or pressure you."

"You won't?"

"Of course not."

"Then…I will explain, da?" Moscow's face clears partially. "I was born under terror, and Russia never liked me much for my first century. Cold is all I have known. But you are so warm." With a soft sigh, he leans down and cuddles me closer and I realise he is right. He is cold all over, or am I warm? Either way, I free my arms to go around him and hold him back.

"Does this help, ari?" It's rather pathetic, I know, but I'm not sure what else to do. Moscow lifts his head and contemplates this.

"Da, it does. But can you smile for me too?" he sounds so sweet when he says that, and I try to smile like I normally do.

"Can you smile for me?" I question in return. Maksim's near-frown returns.

"I don't smile often. I am no good at it." He says.

"Lies, ari." I reply. "Everyone can smile well. Think about what makes you happy and it will come."

"Da?" He is quiet for a little while and then there it is! A tiny smile playing on the corners of his mouth, only little but on him it is huge. I smile wider myself and hug him again.

"You should smile more often, ari! It suits you so well."

"Really? I shall think about that."

"I like your smile, ari." I nod at him as he tries to smile again.

"But do…do you like me?" the smile has gone to be replaced with caution in his eyes, as if he has heard negative answers to this question many times before.

"Of course I like you, Maksim. I like you a lot." I use his human name to emphasize it; I like him for being him, not just because of his status as a powerful capital, and I think he understands. He smiles again- wider this time- and pulls me close yet again.

"And I like you too, Bei. I am liking you a lot."

I smile yet again and stifle a yawn

"Tired, kuvshinka?"

"Shì …" I admit in a mumble, rubbing my eyes. Then I start as Moscow stands up, sweeping me up in his arms and begins to walk back towards the house. I laugh lightly at this, and try to relax into his arms but the walk to the house isn't far, and when we get there, I insist he puts me down. He does so, gently, and wraps his arms around me again just before I go into my room.

"Thank you, Maksim." I murmur again, hugging his cold larger frame.

"It is fine, little kuvshinka." He replies softly. I can feel his voice rumbling in his chest.

"What does that mean?" I question, looking up at him again.

"Kuvshinka?" There- that smile is back on his face seemingly without needing to try this time! "Well…I wasn't lying when I said you were not a sunflower. You are a kuvshinka, a water lily, da?"

"D-da." I agree, trying out his own response. It does sound better than being Mr. Russia's 'sunflower'.

Maksim makes the softest of noises that resembles a chuckle then, and presses his cool hand against my own.

"But a pretty water lily, Bei." He states matter-of-factly, before turning to walk down the corridor towards his own room, only turning to wish me a good night. "Sleep well, kuvshinka. You are the only capital that talks sense sometimes, and you will need rest to keep it up."

"Wǎn'ān, Maksim." I laugh softly. "We will speak again tomorrow, ari?"

"…well, we shall see about that, da?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: One more chapter to go guys! Thanks for the reviews and stuff like that, keep 'em coming! :D_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Goodbye, capitals**

This morning, things can't be more normal. Wendy seems to have had far too much sugar in her breakfast and is already practically bouncing off the walls by the lunchtime meeting, which leaves her country practically in fits, Mr. England shaking his head in disapproving astonishment, and myself and Paris also trying to contain our laughter as our own countries just stare at the hyper capital. Lee pretends to be as disproving as his country, but he too can't help snorting with laughter when Washington tries to climb out of the window and falls back in, landing on her backside. Just then, the door swings open and Mr. Russia enters, with Moscow behind. As his country takes in the spectacle of Washington now pulling faces, Maksim strolls up to me and leans against the wall.

"Privet, kuvshinka." He says, so softly I can only just hear him.

"Ni hao, Maksim." I smile up at him, then quickly glance around at the rest of the room before asking quietly. "Are you going to talk to them today, ari?"

"We shall see. Maybe they give me a good enough reason, maybe not."

"Does…does Mr. Russia know?"

"…da, he does." Maksim doesn't extend this answer, and I don't push him, just as Wendy _finally_ stops giggling and Mr. America tries to call some order.

"Ok, ok guys…" he splutters, still half-laughing. "Let's huddle up! I reckon we've pretty much got these plans sorted, if we just go over the few details!"

"So when will ze actual operation take place?" Mr. France asks, leaning over the map we have spread out over the table.

"I say next week, aru." My country states, also looking down over the sketched lines. Mr. England nearly drops his tea and exclaims,

"Are-are you crazy, China?! That's no-where near enough time to prepare!" London too is looking at my country as if he is mad for suggesting such a thing.

"Dude, I actually agree with Iggy for once!" Mr. America surprises us all, but then Philippa chips in.

"But I see where Monsour China is coming from. We do not know if ze Axis may move sooner or later, so to move fast would be better, non?"

"Yeah that makes sense!" Wendy beams. "Don't you think, Bei?"

"I agree, ari. At the same time, Mr. England is right that it pressures us for time, but it would be best to act quickly." Realizing no-one has yet done this, I pick up the nearby pen and make points on the map showing where we will be. Well, the countries at least, us capitals will be a little further back to provide back up if needed and to block off escape routes.

"Plot your own standing points as well, aru." China advises me as Mr. America plunges back into his own ideas.

"This is gonna be so cool, guys! So then I'll charge down at them and you-"

"Nyet. Let Mr. China do that." A silence falls when Moscow's soft voice interrupts Mr. America's rant. Maksim looks up from studying the map and meets all the eyes on him head on, glancing at me momentarily. I give him an encouraging smile, glad he's spoken up, but then we are all surprised. Mr. Russia's face breaks into a smile too, and he says something in Russian to his capital. Moscow looks completely stunned for a second or two before he looks up at his country, who suddenly gives him a brief hug, shorter than the ones I shared with Moscow, but more meaningful than the head pat from days ago.

"Um, Moscow?" London pipes up.

"Maksim is my human name if you wish to use that. Da?"

Lee I have to admire now, as he makes no uncomfortable comments on Maksim's sudden speech, but brings the meeting back and asks,

"So why do you say Mr. China attack the Axis first?"

"It is simple. Look at the contours on the map." He points to the cliff face that the Allies will be standing, which is indeed very steep and high up. Then Maksim glances up at Mr. America and goes on, "With all due respect, Mr. America, you could not jump down that cliff without damaging yourself, and if you were to climb down, it would take too long."

I glance up from following his hand to see that, like his country he has a way of making people listen, only with Moscow it's definitely more listening out of choice, not fear.

"Ok…I guess I get your point." Mr. America sighs slowly. Admitting someone else is right? Now there's a first.

"But China could make the jump easy, da?" Mr. Russia picks up on his capital's chain of thought, and people now look at my country, who nods.

"Of course I can, aru."

"But what about ze Axis? Ze will be armed, of course." Mr. France points out.

"Element of surprise is on my side, aru. I can deal with them too, no problem."

"I'll believe that when I see it…" Mr. England mutters rudely. China just glares at him.

"Oh you will see it, ahen." He retorts.

"But dudes, quit arguing, this sounds awesome!" Wendy beams. Then she turns her puppy-eyes on her country and says, "Now pleeeease can we have our lunch break?"

"Dudette, that's a great idea! Last one to the canteen's a rotten egg!" Mr. America dashes off at high speed with Wendy close behind, and the other Allies and capitals follow, with China and Mr. England still bickering and Mr. Russia following them with a slight smile on his face. I walk a little behind, tired and not in the mood to make Mr. England see sense, when I feel a cold hand take my own.

"Was that alright, kuvshinka?" Moscow seems unsure of his own words as we fall behind the others and stay in the corridor that provides a little privacy.

"It was very good, ari." I beam at him. "I'm glad you spoke up."

"Me too, Bei." Without warning, he envelops me in a hug, and when he speaks again, I can feel the gentle tremors of his chest. "You know, Beijing…it was yesterday I realised something about you."

"What do you mean, ari?" I question, a tiny bit worried. He pulls back and looks at me, his stare hard as nails.

"Can I show you?" he replied. "I have little experience, but I will do my best- if you allow me, that is."

Confused, I tilt my head slightly. "Y-yes, you can show me, ari. But what-"

Then I am cut off as Maksim stoops slightly and presses his lips against my own. I gasp lightly at first, shocked, but then I relax, my eyes close and I kiss him back, warming his icy lips with mine. Maksim gives something akin to a shiver before he suddenly wraps his arms around my waist, pinning me to his chest.

"So…warm…." I hear him whisper softly, when we break apart to fill our lungs with air. Sympathetic, I return his embrace and snuggle my head onto his shoulder. His scarf smells of…something I can't quite place, something cookery, but it's not a food I know. Nevertheless, it's a sweet smell, and quite addicting.

"You don't have to be cold, Maksim." I smile gently. "It's about concentrating on what warms you up, ari!"

"Found you." That little smile darts cheekily onto his face as he stoops to kiss me again, only this time we are still for only a little while. When we part, I am lifted up off my feet and Maksim is supporting me against the wall before kissing me again, only this time with more ferocity, more passion, and more daring as he suddenly invades my mouth with his tongue. I gasp slightly, but respond, clutching his scarf as I kiss him back in the same manner.

"Any warmer, ari?" I tease breathlessly when he finally lets us separate.

"Da." He smirks ever-so-slightly back and _damn_ if that doesn't look good on him. "Are you alright with this?" he questions as I shift my legs around him for better support. "It just hurt my neck, leaning down like that."

"Are you calling me short, ari?" I raise one eyebrow.

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps I am not. It is up to you, kuvshinka."

"You're so mysterious sometimes, ari! I think I like it, though."

"You do?" Maksim kisses me again, sweetly and quickly before continuing, "On the other hand, I like how open you are, or choose to be." With a small shrug, I reply

"I try to be. Everyone has secrets ari, and, well, I've lived long enough to have plenty."

"Oh I know. Believe me, kuvshinka, I know." Gently, he buries his face in my neck and I suppress a shiver from his cool skin. Vaguely, I wonder if he's noticed the scars there, some coming up from my torso, or of course the one from Japan's katana.

"Should we find the others, Моя любовь?" Snapped out of my thoughts, I give a slow nod, and Moscow lets me down, albeit reluctantly. Then I kiss his cheek, and without any more words, we walk towards the kitchen, hands barely brushing. I enter first, dashing over to the others and waving off their queries and thank Mr. France for the food. Maksim approaches in a minute, and London makes room for him, and the other two smile at him, now more accepting since he suggested that brilliant idea. There are obvious questions, which he answers mostly truthfully, but leaves me mostly out of it. I don't mind. This is about him and his speech, not me. We don't talk excessively through the meal, just catch each other's eye from time to time; it's like an unspoken agreement, to keep this from the others. Not permanently, but for now at least. Like a little secret.

******_Wow-is-this-the-first-timeskip-of-the-fic?!********_

The sun is beating down on the Allies' complex over a week later. Just like before, us capitals are seated around the tree. Lee finished his book a while ago, and is now recounting old tales for us, tales of huge ships with sails looming that would bear down on unsuspecting Spanish galleons and sail away with holds full of treasure. I listen, but it's not my history, and I am busy scratching away in the sketch book on my lap. No-one bothers to ask if they can see what I'm doing; the answer will always be no.

"And zen?" Paris prompts Lee, her interest in history overcoming her dislike of the Brit.

"And then we would sail away into the sun, with victory in our sails and treasure in the holds!" he laughs.

"Woah…." Wendy's eyes are wide. Being the youngest, she has no memories of London's (and England's) pirating days.

Maksim's lips twitch towards a smile as he ponders "I wonder what version Mr. Spain or Madrid would tell of this."

"Oh don't bother asking them." Lee smirks. "They get far too defensive over petty squabbles."

"You call destroying their major sea port a petty squabble?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Well…ok, maybe it's more to them, but that's not the point!" London's blustering makes us girls all laugh, and Moscow shake his head with the smile. Just at that point, Mr. England appears in the doorway of the main house, calling.

"London! Come here, I need you to help me make a point to the Frog!

"Oh I'm coming!" Lee jumps to his feet, a gleeful look on his face. He's barely dashed off before Philippa too is on her feet.

"You are not ganging up on my country, tu rosbif!" she shouts after him, running to the sure defence of her own nation. There is a slight period of silence…then me and Wendy just look at each other and burst out laughing, both of us nearly doubled over as Moscow sits down where London had been and looks at us both.

"What….what is so funny?" he questions.

"What she called him, dude!" Wendy wipes away tears of laughter, and I quickly explain.

"She called him a 'roast beef'" I splutter with laughter, and Moscow blinks a bit, clearly trying to process this.

"I…see."

"Dude and dudette, I'm _so _going to see this argument!" Wendy too now scrambles to her feet.

"Film it, ari!" I call after her.

"Will do!"

No sooner has the American girl disappeared into the house, Moscow moves and takes her place right next to me. There's a silence, but it's not uncomfortable.

"What are you drawing, kuvshinka?" Maksim eventually asks. I shake my head.

"I'll show you some other time, ari." I promise, adding the last few lines of shading before snapping the book shut and laying it to the side along with the pencil.

"Will you?" he raises an eyebrow at me, then adds, "Well I trust you more than any of Mr. America's plans…"

"I heard your idea went well." I shrug. "My country had no problem against the Axis, but then…"

"All Russia told me was something about 'some tall man in a skirt'…"

"The Roman Empire was all that China mentioned." I ponder "But I got nothing more, ari."

"So we are all stuck for what happened." He sighs. "And if you find out after next Wednesday you will have to write and tell me."

I look up at him. "Why? Where are you going?"

"Home, kuvshinka. Winter is on the way, and the troops need me on the front."

"Oh. I see." I honestly cannot think of anything else to say, and Moscow clearly reads my suddenly downcast emotions instantly. "Will you be…safe?" I can't help asking, as the specific word 'front' hits me. Most of us capitals help with the secret services or ambulance/hospital units, things like that, while the countries are out in the fields. But no, Maksim is there, on the front line, and worry for him overwhelms me.

"Bei?" his voice brings me down to earth. I look up at him again and he pulls me closer with one arm, his steel-hard expression softening as he promises. "I will take care of myself. For you, my flower." With that, he quickly kisses me on the cheek. I blush still at it, but before I can say anything…

"I KNEW IT!"

"I…you were right, love, I'll give you that!"

"Zey are so cute together! I told you first!"

Oh yes…the other three have swooped down on us like a pack of hawks. And they obviously saw.

"Aww, you kissed her, Moscow!" Philippa practically squeals. "Zat is just parfait!"

I fully expect Maksim to be at least very embarrassed by all of this, especially as Wendy's squealing is putting Paris' to shame and London still looks kind of baffled. I certainly do not expect him to wrap his other arm around me and hug me even tighter, and rest his chin on my shoulder with his small smile.

"Is it?" he questions calmly, oblivious to how red I've gone.

"Totally!" Washington burbles, then laughs even more. "You're putting your flag to shame there, Bei!"

"Oh am I, ari?" I ask, upping the antique by leaning back into Maksim's embrace and reaching to clasp his hand with my own.

"You…you…" We seem to have rendered London, the capital of the United Kingdom himself, speechless.

"You owe me $20! You owe me $20!" Wendy daces around her cousin, singing a relentless chant. While they are distracted, I twist my head slightly to look up at Moscow.

"When do you leave?" I ask softly.

"Early Wednesday morning." He replies. Then there is a slight pause before he mentions, "You will have to give me something…to hold onto when I need you, kuvshinka. Something to help keep you in mind."

"I'll find something, ari." I smile, feeling my sketchbook resting against my thigh, with the most recent drawing (of a wolf protectively curled around a lily) now destined for Maksim's ownership. He smiles at my words, a larger and more solid smile, and I pray this war won't take that away.

"But you also have to promise me you'll be ok?" he adds. I reply with a slight chuckle

"I promise you I'll survive, ari. I'm fairly good at that!"

"You owe me $20! You owe me-"

"WASHINGTON D.C SHUT UP! I WON'T PAY YOU A BLOODY THING!"

"Ah, but you _did_ make a bet, rosbif! You 'ave to stick to it!"

"Oh for heaven's sake…"

"_You owe me $20! You owe me $20!_"

"…They are so annoying, ari."

"Nyet, you love them really."

* * *

><p><em>AN: *cheery yet nostalgic music fades out as the scene fades into the sunlight….* _

_The End!_

_Nah. It's not :D you guys know me, I can't just leave it!  
>Hopefully coming soon will be a series of one-shots about the capitals, meeting these guys again and new faces as I take you through the world (literally!) of the capitals!<br>_

_Thanks so much for sticking with me through this, and for all the positive reviews and stuff :D _


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